Wooden Spoon
by Italian Skunk
Summary: "Ah, I see! But do you think you could pause in your rescue for some breakfast?"


The sunlight poked and prodded its way through the thin curtains of the bedroom, stretching, curving, and bending to fill the room. Matthew was trapped underneath the warmth of his blankets, his blonde curls pooling around his head in a frizzy mess of a halo, sleeping peacefully and silently. It wasn't time to get up yet…

The bedroom door opened with a faint squeak.

A young white cat slipped inside, feathery tail waving out behind him. The cat carried himself towards the bed, steps light and quick before crouching and leaping onto the soft surface of the bed. Matthew shifted his position to the slight disturbance. The tom cat waltzed onto Matthew's body, testing where he walked before settling on his chest, curling up in such a was so that his little face burrowed close to the crook of his owner's neck. Matthew groaned, sleep-glazed indigo eyes slowly, ever so slowly, fluttering open.

Oh God, the taste in his mouth…!

He allowed a light breath through his chapped lips, sending the young cat a look only a tired Matthew could afford after pushing the previous worry to the back of his mind. "_Laurent_!" he sputtered with a rusty voice, but his voice dripping with his accent. "_mmOOOOVE_!" This was something Matthew hissed at the cat in a soft voice, nudging him off to settle beside him, because Gilbert was just down the hall and he didn't want to disturb his little boy from his sleep like Laurent had with him.

He sighed, more awake than he was several minutes earlier, and was smiling faintly as the cat butted the side of his scarred face against his hand affectionately. He pushed away the blankets, being careful of the white cat. He simply took a giant sweater of his hanging on the back of the bedroom door by a hook and slipped his arms through the long cream sleeves; ignoring the odd feeling of the T-shirt's sleeves being pinned to his thin arms. It hung past his waist freely in a knitted material, hitting off the back of his legs when he moved, which were clad in sweatpants. He carried himself down the hall.

Matthew opened the door, his gaze first hitting with the relaxing hue of baby blue the walls were painted with, sunlight lighting Gilbert's room like it had with his own. Gilbert in question had settled his six-year-old self in the middle of the room, surrounded by an army of his toys. He was dropping a plastic Power Rangers figure – he believed it was the Red one but with the lighting it could also be the Pink Power Ranger – down towards a figure Matthew didn't recognize, but did know that it was holding a teddy bear hostage.

Gilbert also did their voices.

Matthew leaned against the door, blonde curls warming his cheeks as he crossed his arms over his chest delicately. He watched the playing child with an amused gleam in his eyes.

"Gil, what are you doing?"

"Time to save-…! Um… _playin'_, yes…"

Gilbert dropped his toys all together, scrambling up to bounce around the piles of other toys until he darted freely to Matthew's legs, clinging to him for the shortest second before climbing up into his arms. Despite a groan at almost being toppled over, Matthew chuckled once he was safe.

"So you were," he replied.

"Mhm! I was saving Teddy from the evil clutches of Professor Wolf!"

"Ah, I see! But do you think you could pause in your rescue for some breakfast?"

"B-but… what if Professor Wolf and Teddy are gone when I get back!? Oh my gosh, _if_ I get back!" he fretted with a wild look taking over his little face, bright red eyes shimmering with concern.

"Gil, they'll still be there when you get back."

"… You sure? Positive? … You promise?"

"Yes."

"You have to say it, or something will happen! Say you promise!" Gilbert insisted.

"I promise! Okay? Do you want to go down for breakfast now?" Matthew stated.

"… Yes."

So with that, the two of them made way for the staircase, and down to the large kitchen. Matthew set Gilbert down on the kitchen counter, getting out a large mixing bowl and the ingredients for pancakes. Gilbert was watching, kicking his little legs. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with an idea.

"Can we also use chocolate chips? Oh! And can we powder cinnamon and sugar on them too?"

Matthew laughed, and without a word, pulled out a bag of chocolate chips from a nearby shelf, and the small jars holding the cinnamon and sugar with it. He added them to their small collection of ingredients.

"Anything else?"

"Um… no, I don't think so…"

Matthew didn't really like that unsure tone he used. Was he missing something? Oh dear, he certainly was…

Gilbert wouldn't let him start unless he used a wooden spoon to mix the batter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN - They're such dorks.**

**Papa!Canada and Child!Prussia kind of, I suppose ^^ ****Laurent is the pet name I used for Neko!Prussia and based off of my cousin's one cat :)**

** I don't know what I was going for exactly :P but enjoy!**


End file.
